


Jaskier and The No Good Blizzard

by thebitchywitcher



Series: Geraskier and The Near Death Experiences [4]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: BAMF Jaskier | Dandelion, Creature Jaskier | Dandelion, Cuddling & Snuggling, How Do I Tag, Hurt Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sharing a Bed, its kinda platonic, no roach sorry kids, the boys snuggle to survive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:47:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27063655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebitchywitcher/pseuds/thebitchywitcher
Summary: Jaskier and Geralt somehow end up in a blizzard, cuddles and heat sharing ensue.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Geraskier and The Near Death Experiences [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1653142
Kudos: 104





	Jaskier and The No Good Blizzard

**Author's Note:**

> a quick bit of something cute with a little more insight into what Jask is. Guess if you’d like. A big thankyou to Lionesspuma who gave me a bunch of ideas and actually got me writing again.

“ i’m going to count this as your fault, Geralt.” The bard says, stuttering the words out as his teeth clatter from the cold. His arms are wrapped tightly around himself as he follows the Witcher who doesn’t seem at all affected. Jaskier glares at his back, wondering how the hell the white haired man doesn’t look the slightest bit cold. Sure, Jaskier could find a way to warm himself- but he isn’t exactly looking to show Geralt what he is. The bard still isn’t sure if the Witcher will kill him- one can hope but... 

“I can’t see anything in this damn blizzard.” Geralt calls over the sound of the wind, speaking loudly so his human companion can hear. Jaskier doesn’t respond, but his hands twitch where they are tucked against his chest- nerves. If it comes down to it, the bard will do whatever he must to save his companion. Geralt turns back suddenly, outstretching his hand towards the smaller man. “I don’t want to lose you if it gets worse! We need to find shelter!” He nods his head, and Jaskier reaches out with a gloved hand to grasp his witcher’s. 

The two begin to walk again, the bard slightly behind the bigger man. There isn’t much room for conversation over the sound of howling wind but Jaskier doesn’t mind so much. Ever since the dungeon with Yen, the two have been dancing around eachother. Afterwards, Yen had approached the brunette and asked him plenty of questions- she knows he isn’t as human as he claims. Jaskier wants nothing more than to tell the man in front of him but doing so would put him in more danger than he can fathom. 

The bard shivers again, unable to feet his feet or hands as they walk. He can tell Geralt is growing increasingly frustrated by the way he whips his head around in each direction. The brunette bites his lip hard, barely able to feel is at the Witcher continues to lead them. Before he can do something stupid, the Witcher yells something he can’t hear and begins to tug him foreward- faster than before. After a few moments, an outline of somethinf becomes clear in the near distance- and it only takes a second more to realize what it is. 

“A cave!” Jaskier says excitedly, knowing Geralt can hear him anyways. They rush towards the mouth of the cave, the wind already becoming more tolerable as they enter the darkness. The bard lets out a quick sigh, still shivering like crazy. Before he can thank Geralt for finding the cave, the man lets out a grunt and stumbles before dropping Jaskier’s hand. “Witcher?” The brunette asks gently, hurrying to his side. He kneels over the man, staring at his pained expression.

“My side.” He hisses, and Jaskier immediatly undoes the buckles and buttons on his armor with expert fingers, having done so many times before. He tosses it all behind him, promising to clean it after they make it out of this, with Geralt left in his black winter undershirt and leather pants, he quickly grabs the hem of the shirt. The Witcher hisses as the bard’s cold hands come into contact with warm skin and the smaller man lets out a sharp apology as he draws the shirt up. 

“Geralt!” Jaskier curses as he sees the would, a large clawmark on the right side of his abs. It looks painful- and bloody. The Witcher doesn’t respond, and when he looks up he finds the man’s eyes shut, unresponsive. Panic flares in Jaskier as he anxiously touches the wound, wondering what to do. He knows what he has to do, and he takes a calming breath as his hands hover over the man’s wound. Stares down at them, trying to focus and heal him. His hands glow for a moment before the light dies out- too weak. Jaskier lets out a curse, trying again, only to watch the same thing happen. He hadn’t healed from his death in the dungeon then, his lifeforce too weak. 

“Fuck.” He whispers, tears stinging his eyes as he pulls the pack from his shoulders, only filled with meager supplies as the rest of their things are with Roach at the inn. He digs through it for a spare shirt and his water canteen, pulling both out. He wets the shirt, pressing it gently against the wound that thankfully isn’t bleeding so much. A hand grasps his wrist, grip not painful but there all the same. “Shh, it’s okay Witcher. I’ve got you.” He comforts the man, using his other hand to reach up and brush hair from his face. Geralt blinks up at the bard with unfocused eyes before his eyes slip closed again.

Jaskier takes his time cleaning the man’s wounds, using a gentle hand before all that’s left behind in the unwrapped gash and a slowly forming scab. He sets the bloody shirt aside as he pulls his own coat off. His shaking hand gently undoes the buttons of his tunic, pulling it off his shoulders until he’s left in only his pants. He shivers as he lays on the dirt with Geralt, pressing against the man’s warm side with one arm across the Witchers stomach and the other used as padding for Jaskier’s head. He closes his eyes, focusing intently until a gentle warmth begins to spread from his chest outwards, a gentle light filling the cave. After his entire body is warmed, he lets the glow die out- exhaustion tugging on him.

“Jaskier?” A soft voice calls, sounding not as weak as before. The bard swallows as he looks up at the Witcher, not moving from where he lays. The white haired man peers down at him, not judgement on his face as he moves- and for a second Jaskier fears he’s about to he thrown of the man. Instead, the arm Jaskier lays against moves until it’s under the bard, wrapping around his waist and drawing him impossibly closer. The brunette swallows the lump in his throat as the two continue to stare at eachother, Geralt blinking with tired eyes. Before he can talk himself out of it, Jaskier stretches and leans up, putting their faces barely centimeters apart.

The bard gently presses his lips against the man’s warm cheek, taking a deep breath of his familiar scent before settling back down into his original position. “Sleep, Witcher.” He says fondly, resting his head against the man’s chest and using the howling wind outside to lull him to sleep. 

***

The next day Geralt pretends he never saw Jaskier’s glowing hands- pretends he never saw his glowing skin at all. He pretends to not remember the kiss, pretends it’s all a hazy memory. 

And Jaskier lets him.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello I’m back and writing this series again! Sorry to dissapear so suddenly!


End file.
